


Forgive Me, Father

by myoldsupernaturalaccount



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blasphemy, Confessionals, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Prayer, Priest Kink, Priests, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:30:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myoldsupernaturalaccount/pseuds/myoldsupernaturalaccount
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's sinned. A lot. And he's planning on sinning again. Father Padalecki takes his confession every week, and it's getting harder and harder to ignore how badly Jensen gets under his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Jared’s heart stops. He knows that purr, that graveled tone. “Please continue, my child,” he says, but his voice wavers a little; just a little. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive another one of Jensen Ackles’ confessions. It’s like the guy delights in making Jared as uncomfortable as possible. He preemptively loosens his collar.

“I fucked a guy last week,” Jensen murmurs, the faintest image of his profile visible through the dividing screen. “Right up against his truck. Bent him right over the hood and fucked him until that ugly cherry red thing was smeared with cum, all over the side. Mostly his. I came in his ass. No condom. Doesn’t feel as good, y’know?”

Jared clears his throat. “Is that all?” he mutters, praying that it is and knowing that it isn’t.

He hears Jensen chuckle darkly. “Nah, Father, I did lots more this week. After I fucked him, I got on my knees, ate out his pretty little ass. Sucked my cum straight outta him. And you know what he said?”

“No,” Jared breathes, almost a plea for Jensen to stop – entirely a plea for Jensen to stop.

“He said, ‘can we do it again’,” Jensen laughs. “And I said, no way, I don’t fuck the same bitch twice. Mostly. I’d make an exception for…a certain someone in town.”

“That so?” Jared manages. His slacks are uncomfortably tight.

“Yup. That’s so,” Jensen purrs, and Jared can practically hear his smirk. “See, Father, I’ve sinned a lot more than just that. I’ve sinned thinkin’ about a man of the cloth, this young pretty thing, new to town, just begging to be bent over that altar and fucked good.”

It’s hot in the confessional, unbearably so, and a drop of sweat slides down Jared’s temple. “That’s enough. Say twelve Hail Marys and…”

“I’d do it slow, though,” Jensen interrupts him. “I’d get him begging first. Kiss him up against the wall, push up his robes, get a feel for his body. Wouldn’t get him naked though. I like that he’s all holy. Makes me feel better about dirtying him up some.”

Jared can’t help getting his palm on his crotch, just pressing down, meaning to alleviate some of the pressure, to make the need go away, but it only makes it worse. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s getting his hand under his clothes, wrapping one palm around his cock, and running it slowly up and down his shaft as he listens to Jensen continue in that sinful fucking voice of his.

“Then I’d bend him over, yeah, but I wouldn’t fuck him yet. I’d finger him first, get him fucking my fingers and begging for my dick. I wouldn’t give him what he wanted, though, not until he admitted what a dirty, sinful fucker he was, acting all righteous when all he wants is for me to fuck him so hard he can’t walk right for a week.”

“How do you know that’s what he wants?” Jared whispers, trying to hide the arousal in his voice, to cover up the sound of skin on skin.

Obviously he fails, because for once, Jensen falls silent. “Father,” he says finally, slowly, “What’re you doing in there?”

“N-nothing,” Jared forces out through gritted teeth.

A low chuckle comes from the other side of the partition. “Sure you’re doing nothing. Just like I’m not thinking about fucking you into that altar, gettin’ your black clothes all white. Or thinkin’ about your big hand wrapped around your big dick right now. Y’know I’d love to get my mouth on you. Suck you down, drink you up, get you screaming and bucking and pulling my hair. You thinkin’ about that too, Father?”

“No,” Jared denies shakily, although his hand has sped up, his head fallen back, just imagining Jensen’s beautiful plush lips wrapped around him. “No,” he repeats, more to himself than to Jensen, as he tightens his jaw and bows his back, coming hard under his robes, his hand getting sticky with it.

“’Course you’re not,” Jensen says with an audible smirk. The confessional creaks as he gets to his feet, but Jared doesn’t move, bent almost double, trembling and trying to wipe his hand clean on the inside of his robe where no one will be able to see. “I’ll make sure to say those Hail Marys. See you next week, Father.”

Jared can’t quite manage a reply. He’s finally able to breathe again, the air rushing back into his side of the confessional with Jensen’s absence, when the door creaks open again, this time to his side, and he sees a silhouette of a man leaning casually against the frame.

“Forgive me, Father,” he says, a wide grin growing on his face. “For I’m about to sin.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin.”

Those words play over and over in Jared’s head, echoing in his mind for what feels like close to an eternity, but based on how slowly the smirk spreads over Jensen’s face, it’s only a few moments.

“I think I need to do some penance,” Jensen says in his goddamn porn star voice, climbing into the confessional and straddling Jared’s legs. Jared bites back an instinctive whimper.

“Jensen – Mr. Ackles – you need to go,” he insists weakly, hands going to Jensen’s hips in an attempt to move him off. It doesn’t work.

Jensen lowers his lips to Jared’s ear. “Actually, I think I need to stay,” he murmurs, rolling his hips teasingly into Jared’s, then nipping at his jaw. Jared does make a sound then, soft and pleading. His hands tighten on Jensen’s waist.

“You need to go,” he repeats, but lacks even more conviction than before, and he can tell that Jensen knows it, because the other man just chuckles and reaches between them to press his palm to the bulge in Jared’s robes. When Jared moans softly, desperately, Jensen ups the pressure, rubbing slowly and coaxing Jared to full arousal.

“I want you, Father,” Jensen whispers, his own hips pressing forward against the back of his hand. “I want you bad.”

“We can’t,” Jared groans. “Jensen, please, I can’t…” But then Jensen’s lips are so close, so pink and damp and tempting, and Jensen’s waiting for him, smirking a little, so damn close…

Jared looks upward, mouthing a quick prayer for forgiveness, and crushes his mouth to Jensen’s, skipping over the soft and sweet in favor of rough and needy. He clutches at Jensen, fingertips digging into his shoulders, his back, the place where his jeans ride low on his hips. He can feel the quirk of Jensen’s lips betraying his pleasure at winning Jared over, and it just makes him want him more.

“Now, I know you can’t fuck me, because that would be wrong,” Jensen mutters against his lips, grinding down against Jared. “But technically if you just…sit there…” He punctuates each word with a thrust of his hips. Jared can’t help the sounds Jensen tears from him.

“You’re really doing this,” Jared states in a pained whisper, head dropping back against the confessional wall.

Jensen hums his assent, moving his hips in devilish figure eights that have Jared gasping, barely even noticing that Jensen’s hands have both moved north to run over his chest and shoulders. Jared’s own grip tightens on Jensen’s waist, tugging him closer. He feels Jensen’s mouth on his neck, hot and wet and teasing, playing Jared like an instrument and drawing the most beautiful noises from him. Jared knows he won’t last, even so soon after his last orgasm. Jensen is gasping in his ear now, apparently close himself, and Jared’s so close, so close and so desperate and he doesn’t even care how needy he sounds, how he’s repeating Jensen’s name over and over like a litany, a prayer, and Jensen’s rocking his hips harder and faster and Jared can’t breathe and he’s coming, he’s coming under his robes and Jensen’s falling forward, his forehead against Jared’s shoulder.

Even then, Jensen doesn’t stop. His hips keep moving, slower, gentler, and his hands run all over Jared, like he’s trying to see through the layers of robes. Jared finds himself liking this almost more than the desperation of so soon before, and he stays perfectly still, afraid even to open his eyes just in case that makes Jensen disappear.

A kiss is pressed to his neck, soft and remarkably gentle, and then Jensen _is_ climbing off, trailing his fingers down Jared’s chest as he goes.

“See you around, Father,” Jensen says, stepping out of the confessional and letting the bright light of the church flood in. He grins – a little unsteadily, Jared thinks – before turning and heading away.

Jared can’t move for a few long moments, then he slowly reaches over and tugs the door of the confessional shut. Maybe no one else will stop by that afternoon. Maybe he’ll have time to talk some sense into himself.

Or maybe a scrap of paper will be pushed through the wooden lattice, and maybe that paper will have seven digits scrawled on it, and a brief message – “If you’re going to Hell already, might as well enjoy the ride,” it says.

God help him, but Jared’s starting to think he agrees.


	3. Chapter 3

For two whole weeks, Jared manages not to call. For two weeks, he takes cold showers and ignores the memory of strong hands on his shoulders and chest, of soft lips on his neck and jaw, of hot breath on his mouth and throat. For two weeks he’s jumpy during his sermons, just in case Jensen walks through the door with a smirk on his lips and the devil in his eye. It’s the Sunday two weeks from his last encounter that Jensen shows up again, and it’s just as Jared feared. There’s Jensen, in a leather jacket and an obscenely tight black tee, leaning against the archway that leads to the lobby, that goddamn smirk on his face.

“A-and we can see from this verse…” Jared manages, then clears his throat, not wanting Jensen to smirk any wider. “We can see from this verse the importance of supporting our neighbors; the importance of being good for the sake of our town. We must be selfless and thoughtful, and only then can we expect to find the path to Heaven.” He glances down at his notes – he’d intended to do another reading, but now his hands are trembling a little, and he can’t look up at his congregation for fear of seeing Jensen. “Thank you. Don’t forget about the potluck Wednesday night.” He abruptly leaves, heading into the choir room in an attempt to collect himself, with a quick word to the altar boy to tell anyone who asks that he feels ill.

Jared sinks to a hard wooden chair, running his fingers through his hair in agitation as he drops his head. He clasps his hands and squeezes his eyes shut, praying as hard as he’s ever prayed for anything that God will give him the strength to resist Jensen, or at least the wile to stay the hell away from him.

His pulse has almost returned to normal when there’s a soft knock on the door. He’s opening his mouth to ask whoever it is to come back later when what he assumes to be a hallucination slips into the room.

“Hello, Father,” Jensen says smoothly, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft and very final-sounding click. He turns the lock and Jared swallows hard.

“You need to go,” Jared tells him, but as always, Jensen just chuckles.

“You never called me, Father,” Jensen replies as he advances on Jared. “Hurts a guy’s feelings, y’know.”

“I’m very sorry, but I didn’t want to encourage you,” Jared insists, scooting his chair back until it hits the wall. Once again, Jensen moves forward, shucking his jacket as he straddles Jared’s knees. He smirks as he leans in to whisper in Jared’s ear.

“Lucky for you, I like the chase,” he murmurs while sliding his hands down Jared’s chest.

Jared catches his wrists, a pained look in his eye. “Jensen, please,” he whispers back. “I can’t do this. Please don’t tempt me. Please.”

Jensen grazes his teeth playfully over Jared’s bottom lip. “I don’t think you really mean that.”

“I do,” Jared breathes, but then he shakes his head, a tiny gesture, but he also releases Jensen’s wrists. The other man immediately grabs handfuls of his robes and hauls him forward for a hard kiss, one that almost splits Jared’s lip open with its force. Everything Jared’s been repressing for two weeks – hell, his whole life – comes bursting out, and he wraps his arms tight around Jensen as he kisses him back just as brutally. He’s actually glad that Jensen locked the door. He doesn’t want anyone walking in on this. He can’t risk it. He shouldn’t be risking this much, but Jensen is solid, and warm, and kissing him and wanting him and it’s so incredible that he can’t help it.

“Easy, Father,” Jensen chuckles hoarsely when he breaks the kiss, climbing off Jared’s lap and going to his knees. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Jared’s breath catches as Jensen runs his hands up Jared’s legs, pushing layers of fabric aside so he can get at the priest’s fly. Jared has half a mind to stop him right there, but it’s a very quiet half and is quickly overruled by the other, louder, more insistent half, the one that’s telling him to run his fingers over Jensen’s scalp encouragingly. Jensen definitely seems to like that, because he smirks up through his ridiculously thick lashes, licks his obscenely pink lips, and leans in to rub his cheek against the obvious bulge in Jared’s slacks. “Big boy, aren’t you,” he mutters softly to himself. He mouths at Jared through the fabric, eliciting another hitch in his breath.

Jensen, Jared decides, is lust incarnate. The way his clever fingers get his fly open in a flash and wrap around the base of Jared’s cock with just the right amount of pressure is inhuman. It’s too perfect. He becomes even more certain of this as Jensen swirls his tongue over the head, then _hums_ with his lips pressed to the sensitive spot just beneath the crown. Jared starts muttering the Lord’s Prayer to himself, trying to stay distracted enough to keep from drowning in the pleasure. Jensen seems determined to take him to the deepest depths of delicious sin with his wicked tongue and soft lips and the way his freckles shift on his skin as he hollows his cheeks to suck Jared down. Jared doesn’t stand a chance.

He runs his fingertips over Jensen’s face as he sucks him off, tracing patterns between his freckles, along his cheekbones, his thumb brushing over Jensen’s slick, plump lower lip. He looks like perfection and feels so much better.

When Jared comes, it’s with a groan and a prayer that the other man will swallow him down so he doesn’t have to do battle with any more stains. He’s not disappointed. Jensen keeps him completely in his mouth, sucking gently, then slowly pulls off so every drop ends up on his tongue, then down his throat. Jared shivers.

“How’re you doing, Father?” Jensen asks. He sounds like he’s been swallowing coals, his voice hoarse and wrecked, and he smirks fit to beat the devil as he tucks Jared away and straddles his lap, brushing those sweet swollen lips over Jared’s jaw. All Jared can give him by way of reply is a soft grunt, his arms circling Jensen’s waist as his head falls back against the wall with a thud. Jensen chuckles against his skin. “That good, huh? Glad I could help you get that stick outta your ass for a few minutes.” He kisses up closer to his ear, breath hot on Jared’s neck. “’Course, I wouldn’t mind getting somethin’ up mine,” he murmurs with a suggestive roll of his hips. Before Jared can respond, Jensen’s climbing off and heading for the door.

“No excuses not to call me,” he says firmly, pointing at Jared. “You want this as much as I do. Only difference is you’re a coward and I’m not.”

“I’m not a coward,” Jared manages finally. His cheeks are burning and his chest is tight. “I’m not.”

Jensen just snorts as he tugs on his jacket again. “See you around, Father,” he says. He’s gone before Jared can protest again.

Jensen’s words echo in Jared’s head for the rest of that day and into the evening. Is he a coward? He’s not afraid to have what he wants, he excuses mentally. He just has priorities. He puts God before pleasure. Is that so wrong?

When he prays that night, he doesn’t stop after his standard prayers. _I can’t do this on my own,_ he continues, eyes squeezed shut. _Please God. I’ve been good. I’ve been loyal. I’ve tried so hard. Give me the strength to resist him. Give me strength. I have faith in you. Have faith in me. Amen._


	4. Chapter 4

For a while, Jared’s prayer seems to be working. Jensen isn’t around at any of the church functions that week. He doesn’t even hear him riding down the street on that Godawful Harley Davidson of his. It should be peaceful. Instead, Jared feels an itch, deep down under his skin, and he can’t seem to scratch it no matter what he does. He tries to push aside Jensen’s words, especially the one that’s been buzzing around the back of his mind like a particularly frustrating gnat – _coward_.

And, of course, it can’t last. One particularly warm, nice night, he goes out onto his back porch, intending to sit and enjoy the weather for a few minutes before bed. He’s wearing normal clothes for once – jeans and a collared shirt – and it feels different than usual. Normally, without his robes he feels small. Now, he feels free. It’s disconcerting, and he resolves not to dwell on it, just closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of the sweet night air. After he shuts the door behind him, however, he spots a glow in the darkness, a cherry coal with an acrid smell. “Who’s there?” he calls, although he has a sickening suspicion he already knows. He’s right.

Jensen steps out of the shadows into the dim light from the kitchen window. He takes one last drag of his cigarette – and Jared would swear he was letting it drag over his lower lip like that on purpose – then drops it to the thick grass, grinding out the butt with the heel of his boot.

“So you’re stalking me now?” Jared says with a small frown, crossing his arms. His heart is beating wildly. Jensen absolutely should _not_ be there. He shouldn’t be anywhere. He should be out of town and out of Jared’s life before he does something he’ll regret forever.

Jensen chuckles at Jared’s words. “Now Father, that’s not very holy of you to say,” he drawls, looking up at Jared and hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his worn-thin jeans.

“Have I not been clear enough?” Jared sighs in exasperation.

Jensen purses his lips and looks up to one side, feigning being in deep thought. “Well, let’s see. You were real clear with jacking off to my voice. Then you were pretty clear when I got you to come in your pants. And I gotta say, you were absolutely crystal when you were fuckin’ my mouth.”

“Quiet!” Jared hisses.

“Coward,” Jensen retorts.

Jared stares at him for a moment, jaw tight, his temples throbbing. God, Jensen drives him crazy. “Come inside,” he says curtly. “We’ll talk there.”

Jensen’s grin is so smug it makes Jared’s teeth hurt, and the swagger in his movement as he strides up the porch steps is nothing short of infuriating. And maybe he closes the door a little too hard behind them, but really, he can’t be expected to stay calm when Jensen’s in his goddamn kitchen, looking like sin incarnate. As always.

“What do you want?” Jared practically spits, rounding on Jensen, who’s nonchalantly running a hand along his counter.

“I want you to stop pussying around and take what you want,” Jensen purrs, one side of his mouth quirking up as he approaches Jared.

“What I want is for you to leave me alone,” Jared snaps, but his voice wavers on the last word. He hates that word – alone. It’s what led him to the clergy in the first place: easier to be alone with God than to live a lie. Maybe Jensen’s right. Maybe he _is_ a coward.

“Now, Father, I know that’s not true,” Jensen murmurs as he steps right into Jared’s space, running his hands up his chest, leaning in close enough that Jared feels the warm puff of his breath on his lips.

Jared surprises even himself when he grabs Jensen’s face and pulls him into a bruising, angry kiss. “I want you to get out of my head,” he growls into the kiss. “I want you out of my life. I wanna stop…doubting. You’re ruining everything.” He fists the lapels of Jensen’s jacket and spins them around, slamming the other man up against the wall and kissing him again. He feels carnal. Animalistic. _Good_.

“Am I?” Jensen gasps, clearly pleased that he’s getting to Jared. “Am I really ruining anything? Seems like I’m makin’ your life better.”

“Shut up,” Jared spits. He spins Jensen around again, this time pressing him face-down to the kitchen table. Jensen, the little tease, spreads his legs and lifts his hips, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “I hate you,” he continues harshly, reaching around Jensen to fumble open his fly and yank down his jeans. Jensen is only too happy to help. “I hate that you’re here. I hate that you tempt me, make me sin in mind if not in body every goddamn night.”

“Sin’s what makes life worth living, Father,” Jensen chuckles, pushing his hips back against Jared’s, slowly peeling down his briefs. Jared hates that comment. He hates it almost as much as he hates Jensen. He smacks his ass as hard as he can, and feels a surge of sick satisfaction when Jensen yells out in shock and pain.

“ _God_ is what makes life worth living,” Jared corrects him harshly. “And you’re taking me from Him. Do you know how…how _furious_ that makes me?”

“Getting an inkling,” Jensen manages through clenched teeth. Because he can, Jared hits him again, on the other side.

“But you know what?” Jared mutters, almost to himself, ignoring Jensen’s swears and protests, as he opens his own fly, rubbing himself slowly to hardness. When Jensen starts to straighten up, he slams him back to the table with one hand splayed over his upper back. “You were right. If I’m going to have to seek forgiveness anyway, might as well make it worth it.”

“So just fucking _do it_ ,” Jensen snaps over his shoulder, hands balling into fists. “Stop fucking talking and _do it_.”

Jared knows it isn’t that simple. He’s overheard enough from the teen boys in the church, talking in hushed voices about their girlfriends. He knows enough to bend down and spit on Jensen’s hole, to force in a finger and work it in and out, smirking a little at Jensen’s beautiful needy sounds.

“Is this what you want?” Jared asks harshly as he opens Jensen up. “Is this what you want from me?”

“Yes,” Jensen gasps, fucking himself back against Jared’s huge hand. “Fuckin’ _yes_.”

Jared’s jaw clenches and he slaps Jensen across the ass again. “Don’t swear,” he reprimands, and before Jensen can respond he’s pushing inside, jaw tight, head falling back and eyes closing, reveling in the sensation.

“O Lord, Jesus Christ,” Jared mutters breathlessly as he pushes past the friction, the tightness, “Redeemer and Savior, forgive my sins…”

“Are you seriously fuckin’ praying right now?” Jensen grumbles, voice strained. Jared’s hand cracks down across his ass.

“What did I say about swearing?” he snaps, then takes a deep breath, bottoming out and groaning. “Forgive my sins, just as You forgave Peter’s denial and…and those who crucified You.”

For once, Jensen is mercifully silent, except for his soft sounds of pleasure and discomfort. Jared starts to pull out slowly, eyes squeezed shut. “Count not my transgressions, but, rather, my tears of repentance. Remember not—” His voice breaks and he thrusts in hard, hips slamming against Jensen’s, who cries out in some mixture of pain and delight. “Remember not my iniquities, but, more especially, my sorrow…”

“Father,” Jensen interrupts in a whimper, hips rolling back against Jared’s. “Father, please—”

Jared doesn’t know what Jensen needs, but he knows what _he_ needs, and that’s to fuck Jensen hard enough that he gives up these games and leaves him the fuck alone. “…For the offenses I have committed against You.” His voice begins to crescendo, the tight perfect heat of Jensen driving him towards his climax, pleasure flooding his veins and his nerves and his lungs, every atom of him on fire with guilt and joy. “I long to be true to Your Word, and pray that You will love me and come to make Your dwelling place within me,” he cries, so close to coming it hurts, not knowing or caring if Jensen is close too.

“I promise,” Jared gasps. “I promise, I promise, I promise to give You praise and glory in love and in service—” His words are cut off as he flies into the best climax of his life, falling forward against Jensen’s back, his lips next to his ear, breathing hard. “In service all the days of my life,” he whispers a few moments later, breath hot and voice hoarse, feeling spread open and laid bare and damned and blessed.

“Amen.”


End file.
